voice had a hard edge, but it also sounded like its owner was eating something mushy. 
Krakovitch had heard several of Brezhnev's infre-quent speeches; this could only be him.
  "I... no, of course not, Comrade Party Leader." (How the hell did one address him?) 
"But I-"
  "Listen, are you in charge there?"
  "Yes, er, Comrade Party-"
  "Forget all that stuff," Brezhnev rasped. "I don't need reminding who I am, just 
answers. Is there no one left who is senior to you?"
  "No."
  "Anyone who's your equal?"
  "Four of them, but one's a madman."
  "Eh?"
  "He went mad when... when it happened." There was a pause; then, the voice went on, a 
little less harshly: "Do you know Borowitz is dead?"
  "Yes. A neighbour found him in his dacha at Zhukovka.The neighbour was ex-KGB and got 
in touch with Comrade Andropov, who sent a man here. He's here now."'I know another 
name," Brezhnev's thick, gurgling voice continued. "Boris Dragosani. What of him?"
  "Dead," and before Krakovitch could check his tongue,"thank God!"
  "Eh? You're glad one of your comrades is dead?"
  "I...yes, I'm glad." Krakovitch was too tired toanswer in any way but truthfully, 
straight from the heart.
  "I think he was probably part of it; at least, I believe he brought it down on us. His 
body is still here. Also the bodies of our other dead-and that of Harry Keogh, a British 
agent, we think. And also-"
  "The Tartars?" Brezhnev was quiet now.
  Krakovitch sighed. The man wasn't a slave to convention after all. "Yes, but no 
longer... animate," he answered.
  Another pause. "Krakovitch-er, Felix, did you say?-I've read the statements of the 
other three. Are they true? No chance of an error, mass hypnotism or delusion or 
something? Was it really as bad as that?"
  They are true-no chance of an error-it was as bad as that."
  "Felix, listen. Take over there. I mean you, take over. I don't want E-Branch shut 
down. It has been more than beneficial to our security. And Borowitz was more valuable to 
me personally than many of my generals would ever believe. So I want the branch rebuilt. 
And it looks like you've got the job."
  Krakovitch felt like a swatted fly: knocked off his feet, lost for words. "I... 
Comrade... I mean-"
  "Can you do it?"
  Krakovitch wasn't crazy. It was the chance of a lifetime. "It will take years-but yes, 
I'll try to do it."
  "Good! But if you take it on, you'll have to do more than just try, Felix. Let me know 
what you need and I'll see you get it. The first thing I want is answers. But I'm the 
only one who gets those answers, you understand? This one has to be screwed down. It 
mustn't leak. And that reminds me-did you say there was someone from the KGB with you 
right now?"
  "He's outside, in the grounds."
  "Get him," Brezhnev's voice was harsh again. "Bring him to the phone. Let me speak to 
him at once!"
  Krakovitch started back across the floor, but at that moment the door opened to admit 
the man in question. He squared his shoulders, looked at Krakovitch in a surly, 
narrow-eyed manner, said, "We haven't finished, Comrade."
  "I'm afraid we have," Krakovitch felt shored up, buoyant as a cork. It must be his 
fatigue beginning to work on him. There's someone on the phone for you."
  "Eh? For me?" The other pushed by him. "Who is it, someone from the office?"
  "Not sure," Krakovitch lied. "Head office, I think."
  The KGB man frowned at him, scowled, snatched up the phone from the table. "Yanov here. 
What is it? I'm busy down here, and-"
  His face immediately underwent rapid changes of expression and colour. He jerked 
visibly and almost staggered. Only the phone seemed to be holding him up. "Yessir! Oh, 
yes, sir. Yes, sir! Yes, yessir! No, sir. I will, sir. Yes, sir. But I-no, sir. Yessir!" 
He looked sick, held out the phone for Krakovitch, glad to be rid of it.
  As Krakovitch took the instrument from him, the agent hissed viciously: "Fool! That's 
the Party Leader!"
  Krakovitch let his eyes go big and round, made an "O" with his mouth. Then he said 
casually into the mouth-piece, "Krakovitch here," and at once held the phone towards the 
KGB man, let him hear Brezhnev's voice:
  "Felix? Has that prick gone yet?"
  It was the Special Policeman's turn to make an "O".
  "He's going now," Krakovitch answered. He nodded sharply towards the door. "Out! And do 
try to remember what the Party Leader told you. For your own good."
  The KGB operative shook his head dazedly, licked his lips, headed for the door. He was 
still white-faced. At the door he turned, thrust his chin out. "I-" he began.
  "Goodbye, comrade," Krakovitch dismissed him. "Now he's gone," he finally 
confirmed,after the door had slammed shut.
  "Good! I don't want them interfering. They didn't fool about with Gregor, and I don't 
want them fooling with you. Any problems from them and you get straight back to me!"
  "Yes, sir."
  "Now, here's what I want... But first, tell me-have the branch records survived?"
  "Almost everything's intact, except for our agents. There's damage, a lot. But records, 
installations, the Chateau itself-in decent order, I think. Manpower's a different story. 
I'll tell you what we have left. There's myself and three other survivors, six more on 
holiday in various parts, three fairly good telepaths on permanent duty in connection 
with the British, American and French embassies, and another four or five field agents 
out in the world. With twenty-eight dead, we've lost almost two-thirds of our staff. Most 
of the best men are gone."
  "Yes, yes," Brezhnev was impatient. "Manpower is important, that's why I asked about 
records. Recruitment! That's your first task. It will take a long time, I know, but get 
on it. Old Gregor once told me that you have special sorts who can spot others with the 
talent, right?"
  "I've still got one good spotter, yes," Krakovitch answered, giving an unconscious nod. 
"I'll start using him at once. And I'll commence studying Comrade Borowitz's records, of 
course."
  "Good! Now then, see how quickly you can get that place cleaned up. Those Tartar 
corpses: burn "em! And don't let anyone see them. I don't care how that's done, but do 
it. Then put in a comprehensive works chit for repairs on the Chateau. I'll have it 
actioned at once. In fact, I'll have a man here, on this number or another number he'll 
give you, who you can contact at any time for anything. That's from right now. You'll 
keep him informed and he'll keep me informed. He'll be your only boss, except he'll deny 
you nothing. See how highly I prize you, Felix? Right, that should get things started. As 
for the rest: Felix Krakovitch, I want to know how this happened! Are they that far